


Storm Before the Calm

by gas_stations_have_cigarettes



Category: The Hitcher (1986)
Genre: Fluff, Food mention, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, What am I doing, also canon? who is she, and it has multiple chapters and i've spent hours and will spend more hours later working on this, enemies to friends to lovers?, good vibes, i daresay this may be the first truly good thing i have written, i'm proud of it since i've basically never written fanfic and only rarely write, minor injury mention, not rated yet cause even as the author idk exactly where this is going yet, possible slow burn?, the beginning starts almost the same way but canon divergence yall!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25331038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gas_stations_have_cigarettes/pseuds/gas_stations_have_cigarettes
Summary: Maybe it's a good thing Jim didn't listen to his mother this time.
Relationships: Jim Halsey & John Ryder
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the second fic I'll ever have posted! I hope it's not a dumpster fire and that it sparks joy. If it does not spark joy, please leave polite constructive feedback instead of yeeting it out a window and/or coming after me with torches and pitchforks. Thank you and hope yall enjoy! ^^

Jim could barely keep his eyes open. He’d been driving for hours and despite the large thermos of coffee he had, he needed to take a break and get some damn sleep. He wiggled his fingers, which were stiff and stuck to the wheel, and yawned. It had started to rain, and the rain and dark were not making it easy to stay awake.

After a while, the rain was coming down in sheets, pounding on the car and darkening the landscape. Thunder boomed and the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the car. He was glad to be inside the car and out of that weather. The storm had made visibility pretty bad, too. He squinted at a vague shape a ways ahead on the side of the road, distinguishable mostly just because it was darker than the surrounding landscape, but as the car moved forward, Jim realized it was a person standing there in the downpour. He slowed the car to a stop, shut the radio off, and waited, pushing his mother’s warning to the back of his mind. He usually wouldn’t pick up a hitchhiker, but he wasn’t going to just leave someone out there in this weather.

The rattle of the door handle, quickly followed by a loud, somewhat startling knock on the passenger side window, announced that the guy had reached the car. Jim unlocked and opened the door, letting him in and greeting him with a bright, friendly smile.

The hitchhiker was tall; he had to duck a fair amount to get into the car. He shut the door and settled into the seat. His hair was flattened to his head from the rain, and he sneezed violently. “Bless you,” Jim said. A pause. “My name’s Jim Halsey,” he said amiably, glancing at the man. “John,” the man answered in a gruff voice. “Ryder,” he added. They shook hands.

“So, you want me to drop you off somewhere?” Jim asked. “I’m getting your car wet,” John commented instead of answering.

“Oh, it’s not my car,” Jim laughed. “It’s a drive-away. So where you headed?”

John attempted to wipe the rain off his face with a handkerchief. “You got a smoke?” he asked. “Yeah, sure,” Jim said, reaching for a pack of cigarettes and handing one to John. “You gonna tell me where you’re going?” he asked, glancing over at John. “Yeah, sure,” John replied, putting the unlit cigarette in his mouth and looking at Jim.

He did not, in fact, tell Jim where he was going. Jim looked at the road briefly and then back at John, who simply stared at him. Jim turned forward again, shifting a bit awkwardly. “What’re you looking at me like that for?” he asked.

John’s eyes widened briefly, as if in surprise, as he slowly turned his head and looked away at nothing in particular. “...just lookin’,” he said around the cigarette. He sounded tired.

The car went quiet again and stayed that way for a while.

\-------

A click made Jim startle, but he hadn’t even turned to look for the source of the noise before he saw a metallic glint out of the corner of his eye. A knife blade was only inches from his face. He _really_ should have listened to his mother, though it was a little late for that now. The blade grazed his cheek. “What do you want?” Jim asked, terrified. “I want you to stop me,” John said in a low, dangerously quiet voice.

Jim did not know how the hell he was supposed to respond to _that_. “You’ve got the knife,” he answered cautiously. “That’s right,” John said, a bit of a growl to his voice now. “So what do you have to lose?” It sounded like a challenge.

Jim didn’t know how he was going to get out of this. “Please, I’ll do anything,” he said through tears.

“Say four words.”

“Okay,” Jim responded, his voice shaking. He didn’t know if this would work, but as John had said, he had nothing to lose. John said something so quiet it was almost inaudible. When Jim didn’t reply, John waved the knife threateningly. “Say it.”

“I- I don’t know if I can say that.”

“Sure you can, repeat after me,” John replied, sounding a bit annoyed. “I,” he said slowly, looking directly at Jim.

Jim clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to say it, but he saw no alternative. “I,” he repeated.

“Want,” John growled. “...want,” Jim said, though it was barely coherent.

“To,” John said. “T-to,” Jim replied.

“Die,” John said with finality. Defiance flared in Jim’s chest. John had made two mistakes: trying to force Jim to say those words...and apparently not listening to his mother, either. He hadn’t put his seatbelt on.

And the car door was not fully shut.

“I don’t want to die!” Jim yelled, shoving his would-be-murderer out of the car with all his strength. John tumbled out of the car, taken by surprise. Jim floored it and drove away.

\-------

John lay on his side on the road, barely noticing his scraped hands or the bruises he’d sustained from hitting the pavement. He wasn’t even thinking about the fact that he was lying right in the middle of the (albeit deserted) road - he was thinking about the words Jim had shouted at him.

_I don’t want to die._

The words had shocked him just as much as being pushed out of the car had. It was like a splash of cold water to one’s face to wake up. He blinked, his vision coming into sharper focus. _No, I don’t want to die_ , he thought. He slowly hauled himself to his feet as the sun broke through the receding storm clouds and got out of the road.

\-------

Jim hadn’t been driving for very long when the thought came to him. He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but it was not easy to shake.

Now that the adrenaline had faded and he’d had some time to process what the hell had happened, he'd realized that John was _not_ okay, and that Jim might be the only person who could somehow help him.

He also realized that while he had gotten away lucky, what would happen to the next person who picked John up? He knew what he had to do, for both John's sake and everyone else's, though it was admittedly really dumb. For better or worse, though, he had made up his mind.

“Ugh,” he groaned, stopping the car and putting his head in his hands for a few minutes, before turning around and getting into the other lane to drive back.

“Why am I like this,” he muttered as he drove.


	2. Chapter 2

It was almost the same scene.

John was standing by the side of the road, watching Jim's car approach and slow down for him, though he was on the other side of the road this time, and the storm had cleared. Only some receding clouds remained.

John's expression was hard to read, though Jim could tell something had changed.

He was rain-soaked, looked homeless ( _he probably is_ , Jim thought), and he still seemed tired, but less so now, and he looked more present too. The sunlight shone on him, making him look a lot different than he had in the rain and dark. He looked like he came right from the desert, Jim thought. He had tan skin, dusty golden hair, and sky-blue eyes.

John shifted on his feet briefly like he was going to approach the car, but he remained where he was. He seemed to be waiting for Jim to make the move.

Jim parked - the road was completely deserted for miles - and got out of the car, walking slowly towards John. He was not afraid, despite what had happened earlier. He got the feeling that John did not want to hurt him. He stopped a polite distance away. For a minute, neither of them spoke. They simply looked at each other calmly, each with their own thoughts. "...So, I guess you're okay?" Jim said in a friendly tone, breaking the silence.

Only seconds after the words left his mouth, he regretted it. _Fuck_ , he cursed under his breath. Of course John wasn't okay. He hadn't meant it like that, though; he was commenting instead on the fact that John was standing and looked basically unscathed after being shoved out of a moving car. Still, he probably should have said something else. What else he could have said, though, he didn't know.

Apparently it didn't hit John the wrong way, or if it did, he knew Jim meant well. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied slowly, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly like he was amused rather than hurt or offended. The smile suited him more than that tired, sad look did, though Jim didn't say so out loud.

Jim nodded at John and started to walk back to the car, turning his head to make sure John was coming with him. They got in their respective sides of the car and shut the doors.

Jim put his seatbelt on, and while he didn't want to say anything for fear of sounding rude or annoying, he looked meaningfully at John.

John clicked his own seatbelt into place as Jim watched to make sure he did so. That slightly amused look returned, though there was definitely sadness too this time. John sat for a minute, looking like he was thinking hard. " _Why_ ," he started, sounding disbelieving. _Do you care_ hung unspoken in the air. Jim, however, had noticed the cuts and scratches on John's hands. "Hey, you want me to clean those?" he asked earnestly.

John looked like he was going to ask "why" again, but after a second, he stopped like he'd made up his mind about something. "Yeah, sure," he said quietly, almost speaking in a whisper. "I have some water and a first aid kit in the back of the car," Jim said, opening the door and getting up to go rummage through the things in the car. He returned quickly and got back into his seat. John held up his hands, and Jim took them gently.

John had thought that getting thrown out of a goddamn moving car and having those words shouted at him were shocking things, but no. It seemed that this man was going to keep surprising him. He sat and stared at his hands in stunned silence as Jim carefully cleaned and bandaged the wounds. _Why_ , he thought again. He told his thoughts to shut the fuck up.

Jim was telling his own thoughts to shut up, too. He had seen John's expression and squashed a thought of _oh no why is he making that face_. John genuinely looked like he didn't know what the hell to make of Jim helping him, and it made him wince. He was glad he'd decided to turn the car around earlier. Maybe this would turn out okay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dunno where exactly I want this fic to go yet, but hella thanks to the readers, and glad yall are enjoying my second fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA thank yall for the hits and kudos! That shit seriously makes my day! ^^

"All done," Jim said cheerily. John's hands were neatly bandaged. Jim was about to let go of John's hands to start driving, but John's expression stopped him. He hadn't said anything out loud, but _wait don't let go yet_ was clearly unspoken and may as well have been bolded and italicized. So Jim didn't let go.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. John smiled - a real smile. "Thank you," he said. Two words, yet so much was being said. Jim smiled back. He gave John's hands a brief squeeze, careful to not hurt him. "Ready to go?" "Yeah," John replied agreeably.

\-------

The sky looked pastel as they pulled into the parking lot of the diner. It was late afternoon, almost evening.

At the counter, a woman greeted them. Her name was Nash, and she and Jim chatted briefly as they ordered their food. Both ordered a large burger and fries and went to go choose a table.

When they got their food, nobody spoke; all the food was completely demolished in a short span of time. Jim was hungry from driving for hours on end, and he had no idea when John had last eaten. They pushed their plates away, satisfied.

"Thanks," Jim called over to Nash as they got up from the booth. Nash nodded. "Where y'all headed?" she asked. "Road trip?" Jim nodded. That was quicker and simpler than trying to explain _So I was driving cross-country but picked up this homeless guy and decided to help him out instead and honestly, I don't think either of us has a fucking clue what we want to do with our lives right now._ She was at work and probably had enough shit to think about and deal with. They could be friends, but he wasn't going to sit here and talk her ear off right now or get into all that. They left the diner and headed to the car.

"Motel okay?" Jim asked as he started the engine. John nodded. "This coffee ain't gonna last forever," Jim laughed as they drove out of the lot.

The sun gradually sank in the purpling sky. Neither of them said much more. John gazed out the window at the landscape. The sky was calm and clear, with only some sparse, patchy clouds. The first stars were beginning to appear faintly.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun disappeared below the horizon in a blaze of orange fire. The scant clouds hung in the sky like smoke. When they stumbled into their motel room, it was all either of them could do to keep their eyes open. John removed his coat and shoes, dumped them unceremoniously in a heap in a corner of the room, and made a beeline for the bed. He promptly passed out, not moving. Jim planned to do the same after he took a shower. His eyelids were heavy and if he didn't hurry up, he was pretty sure he'd end up asleep in the damn shower. He dumped his few things on the floor as well, on the other side of the bed, and took a warm shower. He changed into the cleanest clothes he had, crawled into bed, and fell asleep barely minutes later.

\-------

The world could have been ending, someone could have been standing right outside screaming at the top of their lungs and banging trash can lids together, and the occupants of that room would not have noticed a thing. They were fast asleep, dead to the world. When Jim opened his eyes, pale sunlight was coming through the blinds, turning everything a faint gold. It was a nice morning, with a pleasant quiet and stillness to the world. John was still asleep next to him, his eyes closed and his breathing even. He looked peaceful. He stirred and opened his eyes. He rolled over but made no move to actually get up, either. He smiled. "Mor-" he stopped, stared at Jim for a few seconds, unsuccessfully attempted to hide his amused look, then started laughing. "Oh my god, your _hair_ ," he said. John had some minor bedhead, but Jim's bedhead was something else. His hair was usually messy and fluffy, but it was a disaster in the mornings. Jim didn't need a mirror to know how it looked. He started laughing too. "Yeah, I know," he said.

"Where to today?" John asked. "Anywhere?" "Dunno. But I think I want to go back to sleep for a while," Jim said. "Fine by me," John said, closing his eyes. They slept till midmorning, then took turns in the bathroom. Jim decided he'd take a second shower this morning after John was done, because 1) hair and 2) what person would skip a shower during a long road trip while he still had the motel room? Jim dozed, blinking his eyes open when the bathroom door opened. John walked out in a towel, making his way unenthusiastically toward the pile of dirty clothes on the floor.

"I forgot these," he said, shooting a mildly annoyed look at the clothes. "I'll put 'em on while you're in the shower. I don't really want to put the damn things back on till I can get them washed, but this is all I got for now," he said, shrugging. Jim looked over at him and nodded, sitting up to get out of bed with an equal lack of enthusiasm (he'd have to get more coffee at some point, he thought) and yawned. John didn't seem to give a shit, but Jim still didn't want to look like he was staring. It was pretty hard not to notice the large scar across John's torso, even from a brief glance, but he decided not to ask about it. He was somewhat curious, but if John wanted to tell him, he would. He decided to also ignore the fact that John was, well, definitely not bad-looking. _Oh_ was his brain's very intelligent response to this. He hadn't done a very good job of not staring, though. "Like what you see?" John teased. Jim's face burned. "Shut up," he laughed. Apparently it was his turn to get called out. As he got up, he picked up a sock from his clothes pile and threw it at John, who ducked, smirking with amusement. Jim shuffled the rest of the way to the bathroom, hoping the shower would wake him up enough to drive more today.

\------

He returned clean, his hair no longer a trainwreck, and functionally awake. John was dressed, the towel dumped on the bed. Jim fished the car keys out of his pocket and after John left the towel in the bathroom, they got their things and headed out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a vague idea now for where I want this to go? Gonna start on an outline for the next chapter(s)! ^^ One possible idea is that they continue their road trip all the way to San Diego and back.


End file.
